I carry your heart
by Laynemorgan
Summary: Quinn and Santana are girlfriends living in district 12 who have their world brought to a screeching halt when one of their names is chosen in the reaping.
1. Chapter 1

_It's twenty seconds till the last call_  
_You're going hey hey hey hey hey hey_  
_Lie down you know it's easy_  
_Like we did it over summer long_

_And I'll be anything you ask and more_  
_You're going hey hey hey hey hey hey hey_  
_It's not a miracle we needed_  
_No I wouldn't let you think so_

_(song: Birdy 1901 cover by phoenix)  
_

Quinn ran her hands over the pleats of her dress as she looked herself over in the mirror. Her mother had picked the simple white dress out specifically for reaping day. It had small eyelets and a satin bow that tied in the back and matched the small, satin-trimmed white shoes she was wearing. Her hair fell down her back in lose curls the way it had since she was young, and rested against the yellow cardigan she had pulled over her shoulders. Quinn couldn't help but feel a bit like a child. Part of her loved the feeling, putting on a something that her mother had picked out for her to wear. It made her feel like she was still the girl that sat in her mother's lap and toyed her fingers along the woman's thinning hair. But there was the part of her that hated it. Being the daughter of one of the mayor's councilmen surely had hit's perks. The Fabrays were recognized, and much more well off than many of the citizens of district twelve. She lived comfortably and most days happily. But then there was the pressure, the ever overbearing glare of her father, and Judy there to toss perfect dresses in her hands and tell her to make sure she looked presentable enough for reaping day. Apparently, as Russell Fabray's daughter it was important she look impeccable, though Quinn didn't understand why. She held no standing that was different than anyone else in all reality. She was seventeen years old, her own name as likely to be pulled as anyone else's.

Probably not quite as likely as Santana, though. The thought made Quinn's stomach sink almost to her knees. Santana was, without a doubt, the only real person that Quinn felt a connection to. They had met a couple years before, a younger Quinn sick in bed where she had been for over a week. Her father's worry had taken a turn for the worse and he had called upon a woman, known around district twelve as a medic. The woman brought her daughter and there, Quinn Fabray had met Santana Lopez.

Santana was not half as well off as Quinn, and while her parents didn't approve of the friendship all the time, the two started running off to a spot by the stream in the woods to keep each other company. Slowly, company turned to stories, secrets, quiet whispers, quieter giggles, gentle touches, eye contact that seemed to last longer than their time together, and the first time that Quinn had leaned over and kissed a very willing but unsuspecting Santana while their feet hung in the water.

Quinn knew that Santana's name had already been entered far more than it should, and probably far more than anyone else's. She had taken up her mother's work full time in performing any kind of medical help around the district where she was needed. Quinn admired her girlfriend for always knowing what to do, and more importantly, for always being willing to jump both feet first into doing whatever it took to do her job, even if it meant more tessarae, more chances her name could be called, so that she could see to it that everyone she cared for had the proper things they needed to survive. Some days Quinn wanted to burst into each of their houses and scream at them for thinking Santana's life held less merit than their own, but knowing Santana, those people didn't even know what she had done to obtain the things she gave them.

Sighing, Quinn padded quietly down the stairs, careful to avoid both of her parents and sneak outside before they noticed and suggested walking to the reaping together. The reaping. Together. As if it were a celebratory picnic, an event they should attend as a family even though they weren't a family most days. Keep up appearances, though. She shut the door carefully behind her, and with quick steps made her way to her and Santana's spot, just as her girlfriend has asked of her, only seconds after eleven. Santana was already there, looking almost exactly as she always did, strong, perfect, hair darker than the stones of coal from the mines blowing against the light breeze. She turned when she heard Quinn's footsteps, with the same comforting look in her eyes as always, and Quinn pressed a smile across her own face. They only had one more year after this, the two had already survived two reapings together as friends, and now they would survive this one as girlfriends, a term they had decided on over half a year ago in this same spot in the woods. This one and one more, and they were through, through with the worry of losing each other and Quinn could finally push the inner sickness that built in her stomach at the thought of all of it away.

Santana stared up at the sky, already waiting for Quinn at their spot by the stream. It was just past ten of, so she had a couple minutes to herself before her girlfriend arrived. The sky was as clear as ever, a deep blue, with hardly a cloud in a sky. The very definition of a beautiful day. However, as she fiddled with one of the loose threads in her light green dress, she couldn't help but have dark thoughts about the day ahead of her. She'd lost count of how many times her name would be in that bowl today. At least 75, maybe over a hundred. And as much as she tried to reassure Quinn that both of them would be all right, she knew that the odds were not exactly in her favor. It wouldn't do to tell that to the blonde though. It would only cause her to worry more, and that was the last thing Santana wanted to do to her. Too often were there little lines bunched up in her forehead as she fussed over something or other. Her favorite was when Quinn's face was as smooth as it ought to be, carefree and full of laughter because of something she'd done or said. She always wanted that for Quinn, not the sad little smile that tugged at her lips whenever Santana made an offhand comment about trying to get more food for this patient, or more supplies for that one. It made her seem far older than they both were, although, she supposed, that was more the district's fault than anything.

Before she had a chance to think on anything else, the cracking of a small twig alerted Santana to someone else's presence, and she turned quickly, a smile springing to her face when she saw Quinn. Technically, they were outside the district lines, but the only people who really dared to go under the fence were them and a couple other daring souls. She had first started coming out here to run errands for her mother, gathering the wild herbs and plants she needed for her homemade remedies. They were things that they could have always gotten at the apothecary, but they were too expensive for the amount of work that she had. So since the age of 9, Santana had been crawling under the fence and working alongside her mother, nursing sick patients back to health. That was when she had first encountered Quinn. Even on her sickbed, the girl was one of the most beautiful girls she'd ever seen, and long after leaving Quinn in her room, she couldn't get her angelic features out of her head. Santana never thought that several years later, she'd actually be with her, in ways that she only dreamt were possible. She never believed that Quinn Fabray, the daughter of one of the most powerful men in District 12, would ever look twice at her, a lowly medic's daughter. Yet somehow, she did, and they were happy, happier than either of them had ever been before they'd met each other.

Santana reached for her girlfriend as she drew near, holding her close as she pressed her forehead to hers. "Hi," she whispered in greeting, her dark brown eyes holding tight to Quinn's hazel gaze. "You look gorgeous today," she smiled, stealing a quick kiss from her lips. She did too, certainly much more put together than Santana did, in the same dress she'd owned for 3 years now. She'd let out the hem twice, and it was faded, but she didn't mind. She much preferred to be in trousers and a shirt anyways. It made her work easier. Since her mother had died of the fever a year and a half ago, Santana had taken up her work, going around to different homes in the district to provide aid for anyone from colicky babies to miners who had been severely injured. She wasn't as good as her mother yet, but she was better than anyone else in the district. It put food on the table for her and her grandmother, which was more than she could say for many of her neighbors. Her job made her forget sometimes, just how young she was, but days like these, with the Reaping, that's when her age became all too apparent to her.

They both knew how much the district would suffer without Santana, and not even just the district but her own family. Santana's grandmother had fallen ill only a few months before that and Quinn had to quietly lose a lot of the time with her girlfriend that she had previously had, as the other girl had to devote a good deal of her time to taking care of the woman that had cared for her for most of her life. Even Quinn herself wouldn't survive if Santana's name was ever chosen. For years she had been the only person Quinn trusted, cared for… loved. Their lives had fallen so oddly together and yet, their hands, even now as Quinn reached for the darker ones in front of her, fell perfectly in place. Santana had told her over and over the night before that there was no need to worry, and Quinn tried to tell herself the same. There were hundreds of names, plenty of others who maybe had gotten as much tesserae as Santana. Quinn squeezed the hand she held in hers as tightly as she could. The thought of her own name being pulled wasn't even one that had crossed her mind, mostly because as usual, almost her entire focus was on Santana's well being, and also because, despite her efforts to try and take some of Santana's load off for her, Quinn's name was only entered once. "You ready to go show one more of these things who's boss?" Quinn asked with a quiet false confidence, as a small smile formed on her lips.

"Let's do it," Santana poked Quinn lightly, taking her by the hand.

The pair walked hand in hand from the stream, the spot the always stayed close to when they were together, to where the reaping would be held. Already, the girls and boys were divided, a crowd had formed. Quinn could feel her palms going clammy. Most days she was very well composed, always strong and brave in the face of situations she wasn't comfortable in… or at least she tried to be. If she didn't have Santana to worry about, she would probably be plenty composed today too, but she couldn't seem to shake the worry the way her girlfriend could, as they found themselves a spot in the slew of other District twelve girls, never once letting go of each others' hand.

Santana held her head high, scanning the crowd for her grandmother. Despite the fact that she was ill, practically bed-ridden, the Capitol didn't excuse her from attending the Reaping. Santana inwardly cursed the name of President Snow in her head as she spotted her grandmother, leaning heavily against one of their neighbors who looked after her when she was out tending to other patients or gathering herbs (which often coincided with when she met up with Quinn). Gritting her teeth at how tired the old woman look, her concentration was broken when a loud reverb echoed throughout the square, as Effie Trinket tapped the microphone to make sure it was working. The moment she stepped up onto the platform with her neon green hair and painted lips, not another sound was made. She went through the same motions she went through every year, talking about the history of the Hunger Games, and their practically nonexistent pool of previous Victors. Santana had heard the speech so many times that she could probably recite it from memory. She glanced briefly at Quinn, who had worry lines creasing all over her face. Frowning slightly, she gave her hand a slight squeeze, to remind her both of her presence, and that she needed to breathe.

Quinn didn't notice anything that went on from that point forward. Nothing of the usual reaping happenings, of Effie Trinket on stage, or her own father staring out from somewhere near Mayor Hudson with her mother close beside him. She noticed only the feeling of Santana's warm hand in hers, the dull scrapping noise her white shoe made when she dug at a rock in the dirt, the familiar smell, the familiar feeling that was Santana, and the repeated rhythm of her heart beating far too quickly in her chest. She didn't speak much, even as some of the other girls around them shot whispers to one another or mumbled words. Quinn didn't speak because she didn't know what she would say should she open the flood gate that would be her mouth at the moment. Part of her would yell, at the girl next to her for making her worry so damn much all the time, the other part of her would probably just try some nauseating speech about how much she cared about her, another part would take the little boy kicking sand beside them and give him a full piece of her mind because with the edge her mind and body seemed to be teetering on she could unleash everything she was feeling on whatever unsuspecting thing happened upon her in the next minute.

However, that unsuspecting thing never had to come. "Ladies first." They were the first words from the stage that actually caught Quinn's attention. Her grip tightened on Santana's hand, her eyes lifting to the woman speaking for the first time, for fear of looking at Santana. She watched as a gloved hand reached into the glass that held so many small pieces of paper, so many inch long twists of fate, and as she pulled one out, Quinn's heart stopped it's rapid rhythm, freezing entirely as the cheery woman spoke the words that could so quickly make Quinn's day, and in this moment stop her world: "Santana Lopez."

Santana continued to sneak glances at Quinn all throughout Effie's speech. It wasn't until she heard her name called out that she snapped back to attention. Everyone's gaze burned into her body as people turned to look sympathetically at her. Even though that Santana knew that this was always a possibility, especially considering how much tesserae she'd taken out for the people of the District, it wasn't until her name passed Effie's lips that she actually registered the reality of it. Her heart stopped for a moment, looking but not really seeing as Quinn's horror-stricken gaze fell on her. She vaguely heard a faint cry from the crowd of families, but she couldn't tear herself away from Quinn's eyes. Almost immediately, her mind snapped to her patients. Every year, a week before the Reaping, she would sit down and write down detailed instructions on how to continue care for the people she was currently looking after. It wouldn't save them if their condition changed, but it would keep them safe until she could possibly, hopefully, get back to them. They were all sitting in her desk, in a drawer where she knew they would be safe. After the reaping every year, she burned them, watching the flames lick at the paper to remind her of what she had escaped for another year. No one knew she wrote them, not even Quinn. She didn't want to worry the other girl, and the idea of her making contingency plans in case she was called was something that would definitely worry her.

Not caring about how Effie was repeating her name or how everyone was still staring at her, Santana reached out and crushed Quinn to her chest, holding her tight enough that she thought that she could feel her heart beat against her breast. This could very well be the last time she saw her, and suddenly, all the time in the world didn't seem enough for her. "Quinn…" she breathed, blinking back tears. "Take… take care of my grandma. Please… don't let her die," she begged softly. "And… take care of yourself." She could hear the Peacekeepers drawing nearer to them, pushing away girls who didn't move out of their way fast enough. They were going to take her and there was nothing they could do about it. A strong hand clamped around her upper arm to yank her away, and she pushed them away. She just needed one more second. Not caring that the entire district was watching them, she pressed her lips to Quinn's in a desperate kiss. It wasn't sloppy, but it said everything she didn't have the time to say. "I love you," she whispered as she was pulled away. The entire crowd had been stunned into silence and Santana carefully avoided meeting anyone's eyes. Even Effie Trinket seemed not to know what to say in these turn of events. She shook off the hands of the Peacekeepers, wanting to walk up to the platform on her own. She wouldn't be dragged like an animal led to slaughter. She had accepted that this was her fate. Santana was ready to enter that arena, to fight to the death so she could return to her girlfriend and her family. She was ready to kill. What she wasn't ready for, was the voice that called out in the silence, a voice she knew almost better than she knew her own, with words that would turn her world upside down. "I volunteer."

**A/n: This fic comes from a a tumblr RP which is the cause for the writing style. The links to those blogs can be found under the tumblr urls santana-intheforest and quinn-12 In early chapters, it's recommend you don't read them so you won't be spoiled. All the writing is already finished up until the resolution of the game, however, we had two possible endings and weren't sure which we preferred. One ending is on the blogs, the alternate ending will be used here. Not everything here will be stuff that is there and we will be adding new things to this story that weren't in the original. Santana's POV is written by Carrie who can be found on tumblr under the url acciolopez and Quinn's POV is written by me. For anyone interested in updates or anything else, my tumblr url is Fabray  
**

**Also we would like some feedback on how you all would prefer we update. Would you prefer we get everything up quickly and post one chapter a day? Or would everyone rather we spread them out over a length of time and post one every four or five days?  
**


	2. Chapter 2

It was one of those moments when the entire world seemed to freeze. The planet ceased turning on it's axis, time, air, everything around them was still. Quinn had never felt a moment like that before, and she probably never would again. Her eyes fell on Santana who was already looking straight back at her. If Quinn had been thinking she would have not looked so horror stricken but she wasn't thinking. She couldn't think. There were no thoughts, no words, nothing registered aside of Santana's face, and the feeling of her girlfriend's hand suddenly heavy in her own. Quinn held it tight as possibly she could, not even realizing she was doing so. They hadn't let go since they moved from the woods, reaping day they only day they ever held hands in public. No one probably ever thought anything of it. Plenty of people held hands on reaping day. Not like this though. When most people held hands on reaping day it was a reassurance, a reminder that they were there, together, with each other. Quinn's grip on Santana's hand was nothing of the sort. It had been. In the years before then it had been exactly that— a reminder that they were together, always. We'll have it all. Just as Quinn always said. Some day. Now though, her holding Santana's hand was desperate. Her grip was tight, clammy, refusing to move. It was a plea more than a reassurance, it was her saying 'no' not 'I'm here.' But no one else would have noticed that.

The only thing anyone else would have seen were two girls, staring at each other like their worlds had stopped. Because, in fact, they had. They would see two unlikely friends. The late medicine woman's daughter and councilman Fabray's _Quinnie_ not moving as peace keepers drew closer to them. They would see Santana standing still and strong as she always was, but they wouldn't see the tears she was blinking away. Only Quinn would see those. They mirrored the ones in her own eyes as she bit her lower lip and shook her head. No. Quinn didn't even know what it was directed at specifically but it didn't matter. No to all of it. No she didn't want to hear Santana tell her what to do, say words that sounded like goodbye. No she didn't want to let her hand go, or let them take her. No she couldn't do it. No she wasn't strong enough. No this wasn't last time she would see her. It couldn't be. No she wouldn't stand in front of her girlfriend and listen to her say 'I love you' like it meant goodbye.

"Santana….. no." Quinn whispered the words. They were desperate and choked, and she continued to just shake her head, raking her lip through her teeth again. How was she the one being weak, when Santana needed her to be strong. She held back crying for as long as she could, until a white gloved hand broke her stare into the dark brown eyes she had grown to know better than the back of her own hand. Then another, more white. One of them wrapped around Santana's arm, and Quinn was stunned when the other girl pushed them away, their lips meeting quickly, as perfectly as they always did. Quinn wanted to grab her, wrap her arms around Santana's body and never move them even if that meant they went together but that wasn't the case and there wasn't time. The gloved hands came back, and Santana pulled away, with an I love you that instantly shattered what little knowledge Quinn had of the things going on around them. A small, choked sob escaped her lips, and Quinn felt her chest shake. They pulled Santana away and she tried to reach for her, get to her, even if it was only another kiss. More peace keepers came. They held both of Quinn's arms despite her fighting. She tried to push against them, kicking, elbowing, yelling, and she didn't even know why.

Quinn's vision, despite all her struggling, was focused only on the back of Santana's head. She walked stoically between two peace keepers, no longer needing to be dragged away. It was a strength and a dignity that Quinn respected. However, it didn't keep her from not caring about her own as she continued to claw uselessly at the peace keepers that held her. One of them pulled her away, spinning as if they were going to leave the area. That was the final blow to the ounce of sanity Quinn was trying to hold on to. In a quick flash she caught a glimpse of Santana's grandmother. _My Abuelita_. The sick woman was the only thing Santana had left. Santana was the only thing she had. _Quinn take care of my grandma, please don't let her die. _Those were the only words she heard in her head, as the peace keepers tried to further pull her away. How could she do that? How could she take care of a dying woman? Only Santana knew how to. Only Santana would be what her grandmother needed… wanted. The whole district needed her.

With one last push of her body, Quinn launched herself away from the peace keepers. "I volunteer!" She screamed the words. They were desperate but bold. Who needed her? No one. Everyone needed Santana. Hell… Quinn needed Santana, home, safe. Who needed her? She was the daughter of a man who kept her around to wear dresses and eat dinner with the Mayor's son. _Bartered around to Finn Hudson for her father's social status_ as Santana had said. This was all in her hands. Quinn could trade herself. Santana would probably object. Hell by now she was probably screaming. Quinn didn't hear anything. She didn't even look to where her dumbfounded mother stood, clutching on to her now purple-faced father.

Quinn's eyes attached themselves to the stage as she made her way closer to it. Some of the peace keepers were still trying to keep her back. There was a whisper that almost made it's way to the microphone on the stage. One of the men saying something in the ears of Effie Trinket. Quinn didn't know what, but chances are it meant he game keepers enjoyed the idea of a councilman's daughter as tribute.

Effie's voice rang over the commotion, telling them to calm down, to grab Santana, that the brave little girl in the back would be tribute instead. There was a mockery to her voice. Already Quinn knew she was giving them everything that could have hoped for and more. Sure, Santana would have been a good tribute, and she was probably trying to volunteer over Quinn if such a thing was possible, but the daughter of an important man…. what better way to prove the power that the capitol still had. Quinn was already giving them exactly what they wanted. But she wasn't giving them Santana. The peace keepers let her go, and Quinn straightened her back, smoothing her hands over her dress as she had done in the mirror that morning and only then stealing a glance towards her mother, only for a brief second, and only because she couldn't look towards Santana. Quinn was terrified of what she would see in her eyes, and so she walked, quickly but steadily to the stage.

Someone was screaming, a loud, piercing wail that echoed in her ears. It took Santana ten seconds and a hoarse throat to realize that she was the one letting out the unearthly sound. The same two words bounced around in her head. I volunteer. "NO! NO, TAKE ME! TAKE ME! I VOLUNTEER, I'LL DO IT, I'LL VOLUNTEER!" she shrieked, practically sprinting towards the stage. She nearly made it too when two Peacekeepers tackled her, tugging her away. "NO NO NO NO, LET ME DO IT! QUINN!" she howled as she clawed and scratched at the hands forcing her away from her girlfriend, her small body walking up the pathway with a firm, yet timid gait. The eyes in the crowd were split between the stoic girl, marching to her death, and the girl she loved, and who loved her in return, trying desperately to reach her. An arm wrapped around Santana's throat, cutting off her air supply, and consequently her screams. Only a gurgled choke escaped her mouth as she stared, horrified at Quinn who was now standing on the stage, looking shy and solemn, but adamant in her choice. Santana didn't care that her face was probably turning purple from lack of air, or that she would undoubtedly have a large bruise from where the man's forearm was crushing her windpipe. All she cared about was the fact that her girlfriend, the one person she loved more than life itself, was committing herself to her doom.

Quinn stood, looking out over the sea of people that blurred in front of her. Santana. Where is Santana? It was the only thing she could think but her vision couldn't seem to find her girlfriend. Maybe she wasn't supposed to. Maybe if she did they would both spontaneously combust due to an overload of emotion. Quinn felt a thin-fingered hand on her shoulder. "Your name, sweetie". Effie's coaxing tone snapped her out of her trance. Quinn looked at the woman, back out to the crowd again and then directly in front of her, not knowing where else to put her eyes. "Uh… Quinn. Quinn Fabray."

Santana watched as Quinn's eyes flickered around, glancing briefly at her sobbing mother and her livid father, to around the crowd, undoubtedly searching from her. I'm here! She wanted to scream out to her, but she was still rendered mute by the arm around her throat. Someone shifted slightly and blocked her view of Quinn, and she fought even harder to get the arm off her. It tightened even more, and she choked from the pressure.

The rest of the reaping was more blurry than the beginning. Quinn didn't even hear the name of the boy they chose, or his mother cry when they ripped him away. She heard Santana's voice in her head. Take care of my grandma, take care of yourself…. I love you. Quinn could do those things. "I love you too." She whispered inaudibly down to her folded hands, and then as they pushed her away and through the doors, "We'll have it all."

The same person moved again, and the last thing Santana saw was Quinn's retreating back as Effie hurried her into the building, steel gray doors slamming shut behind them. Finally, the peacekeeper let her go, shoving her down onto the dusty ground. Santana coughed harshly, trying to suck in air. No one moved to touch her, but she could feel everyone's pitying gaze upon her. She rested her forehead on the ground, breathing heavily, not letting anyone see her tears. She could hear the soft whirring of a camera trained on her, undoubtedly giving the people in the Capitol a good show. Finally, once she had her breathing under control, Santana sat up, tear tracks showing on her face, her dress ruined by her scuffle with the Peacekeepers. She didn't look at a single person, ignoring everyone around her. She left the crowd, her head held high. She wouldn't let them watch her break down any more. No, they didn't deserve to see her tears.

Santana had barely made it out of the square before her heart wrenched again, and she had to force herself to take each step. She couldn't do this. Not here. It seemed like an eternity before her feet took her back to their spot by the stream, a place where only an hour before had seemed like their little piece of heaven in their hellish existence on Earth. Now, it looked barren and cold to her, like another nameless plot of grass along a muddy bank of barely there water. She realized that it only looked bright when Quinn was there to share the beauty of it with her. Quinn was the beauty. She felt tears well up in her eyes again as she remembered the calm, resigned look on her beautiful face, as though she knew exactly what she had done, and that she would do it again to save her. Wiping her tears furiously from her face, she let out a raw scream, startling the birds and animals in the nearby woods. She didn't care if the Peacekeepers heard her, if they found out that she was beyond the fence. Her anguished cry erupted into the air, but then faded in the wind, carried away by the breeze. She knelt on the ground, weeping for her love, for the cruel twist of fate that tore them apart. "We'll have it all," she whispered to herself mockingly, scoffing at their naiveté.

Finally, Santana knew that she had to get home. Her abuelita would be worrying about her, or practicing the speech to kick her out of the house. She wasn't really sure yet. That little public display of affection at the Reaping would not go over well with the old-fashioned women. Somehow though, Santana couldn't bring herself to care. She walked aimlessly through the district, like a zombie. No one came up to her, talked to her, tried to offer any comfort. They all stared, watching the girl who had just had her life pulled out from under her. When she neared her house, her heart jumped in her throat as she saw a Peacekeeper waiting for her. It was Flux, one of the Peacekeepers that often looked the other way when she returned from the forest, laden with herbs and plants for her cures. He looked sympathetically at her as he began to move towards her. "She wants to see you," he murmured quietly. "It's not customary, but since she's a volunteer, and her father… they're allowing it." Santana's eyes widened. She didn't think she would see Quinn before they took her away, but now that she had the opportunity, she had no idea what she would say. "Let me… let me clean up real quick," she said hoarsely, her voice raspy from her bruised throat and the harsh screaming she'd been doing just a little while earlier. Flux nodded and Santana brushed past him, ripping off her soiled green dress and opting for her preferred pants and sturdy shirt. She washed her face, ridding it of all remnants of her tears, except for the redness in her eyes. Staring at her reflection in the looking glass, she barely recognized herself, the haunted look in her eyes, the bruise that was beginning to form on her tan skin. Tearing her eyes away, she stepped outside, and she and Flux set off for the Town Hall, where Quinn was waiting for her.

Neither of them spoke as they trudged through the town, eyes on them nearly burning through Santana. They were in the merchant area now, where Quinn had lived. These were her neighbors, her acquaintances. She could feel the judgment in their eyes. Why had the councilman's daughter volunteered herself for this nobody? Standing up even straighter, she kept her eyes focused straight ahead, feeling Flux's hand on the small of her back, guiding her through, keeping her grounded. She walked up the steps to the ominous building, and stepped through the threshold as Flux opened the door for her. Nodding her thanks, another Peacekeeper met them at the door, identifying them both before motioning for Santana to follow her. Flux gave her an encouraging smile, and Santana walked after the other woman, her hands growing clammy as she tried to think about everything she would say to Quinn. They wouldn't have long, and it wouldn't be enough time, but right now, she couldn't think of a single thing to say. Before she knew it, they were before a plain mahogany door and the Peacekeeper nodded at her before leaving. Taking a deep breath, Santana knocked once before reaching for the doorknob. Opening it slowly, her breath caught as she glimpsed Quinn's face, willing her tears to go away. Stepping in, she shut the door behind her as Quinn spoke:

"So… I… guess we have… three minutes…"

**A/n: As before we would really love to hear any feedback that you guys have. Also as mentioned before, this story is based on our RP. There will be writing after this chapter that does not take place in the first version. If anyone would like to follow for updates on this version, you may look for either of us on tumblr under the urls Fabray and acciolopez. The urls for the original rp of this story are quinn-12 and Santana-intheforst. Also, we would still appreciate some feedback of what you guys would prefer in terms of length of time between chapters. As most of the content is already written, we are capable of posting every day or two, but are more than willing to wait if people would prefer we spread it out.**


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